190 CHAPTER 149: MARCHING OF SAINTS (PART ONE)

His black robe billows gently and with it emanates the airs of an overlord. His eyes scanned the entire room, analyzing and taking it all in.

His fingers tapped the handle of his thrones, as each of his fingers is gleaming with the dim gleaming shines of his rings.

Then he smiles but looking more like a smirk.

He was sitting on the thrones made of bones. Beneath his feet were swirls of dark energy that gathered on the soles of his feet.

His throne emits cold aura but was suppressed by the very vitality of life emanating from his body.

His eyes was cold but there was wisdom in that eyes, like his pupil could see through all lies and illusion with a simple gaze or a glance.

His usual flawless expressionless face has a trace of a smile, his muscle well sculpted and with his height and the aura emanating from him he looked imposing.

His black robe were lined with runes symbols, his aura oppressing everyone in the room like he was a mountain on their chest.